<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Revenant by syntheticvision</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25657195">Revenant</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/syntheticvision/pseuds/syntheticvision'>syntheticvision</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And I mean Nomad, Biker Bucky, Biker Gangs, Blood and Injury, Death Threats, F/M, Forced blowjobs, I Love Vengeance, Laundry Room Handjobs, Motorcycles, Nomad Steve Rogers, Tattooed Bucky Barnes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:40:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25657195</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/syntheticvision/pseuds/syntheticvision</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Caught by Federal Agent Alexander Pierce, an accountant for the Howling Commandos motorcycle club is arrested. She gives them an offer they can't refuse: if they let her walk free, she'll tell them everything they need to know about the gang and then some. </p><p>She leads them to their headquarters before she flees - but not without helping herself to some of the club's money.</p><p>The Feds capture the gang, including the president, James 'Bucky' Barnes, who they've been after for over a decade. Due to what appears to be a clerical error, Barnes is set free within days and ready to pay her back in kind.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redandblack2002/gifts">Redandblack2002</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I would be Team No One on this but it could go either way 😈</p><p>As the story adds, so will the tags.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The tires hugged the road, the warm night air skating across her neck while the convertible eased through the winding highway.</p><p>Sounds of Velvet Revolver pumped through the speakers in her brand new Porsche 911 Carrera S Cabriolet. A grin spread across her lips at how quickly her plan had come to fruition. It had almost been too easy.</p><p>The Feds had broke through the doors right on schedule. Her getaway had been seamless, slipping out the back with the two suitcases of money already locked in the trunk. The car had purred to life right before the second wave of black sport utility vehicles pulled up, curls of dust floating behind her rear view as she peeled out of the lot.</p><p>Putting distance between herself and the club had been paramount. With arrests came bail bonds, girlfriends and cronies ready to exact vengeance. By the time they figured it out, she would be long gone. Her foot pressed down on the pedal and the car shot forward, speeding past a semi that got too close to her lane.</p><p>The adrenaline of being able to get away with robbery – literally – and knowing her boss was sitting somewhere in a jail cell made her chuckle, the back of her fingers pressed against her lips. If there was such a thing called karma, it surely came to James Buchanan Barnes. She had endured intimidation and countless threats at his hands. The sleepless nights of making sure everything was seamless. Perfect. Mistakes didn’t happen. Not in his club. Everyone was held accountable.</p><p>She’d gotten the job purely by luck. Her roommate liked to bring home her dates, one of them being Sam Sawyer, a member of the Howling Commandos. They’d smoked a blunt together one morning when she was nursing a hangover, creeping into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Sure, she had embellished a little on what she was capable of when he had asked about her qualifications but it didn’t matter. The last accountant had seemingly fell off the face of the earth and their club president was getting antsy doing the books himself. It was like the job had fallen into her lap. Made for her.</p><p>Even when she’d been pulled over on her way home after she'd worked there for months, arrested and taken to a little white building to be interrogated, she’d kept her composure. Fracturing that was fatal. Even a hint of a confession meant a bullet in the brain.</p><p>Which was why when the man with the warm smile and deep laugh lines who sat across from her that night made an offer for her to give up details of what happened in the club, she laughed right in his face. A five-year sentence as an accomplice to a list of charges that were total bullshit. She was an accountant, for fuck’s sake. He could do better than offer a five year sentence. It was no surprise they'd been tracking the club. Everyone had seen the unmarked police cars and the random new recruits that never quite seemed to cut it. Subtlety was not their strong suit. They needed something more inciting. An offer to up the ante.</p><p>Fortunately, the one thing she knew how to do well was haggle.</p><p>“I’ll give you the names, the books, the gun running and rankings. I don’t serve any jail time because once I do that, I’ll have a target on my back and I’m as good as dead, sound good? Might as well give me a head start before I meet my Maker once they all find out what I've done. Final offer.”</p><p>She knew that offer wasn’t going to be ignored or even renegotiated. The look on his face told her so. Now when they’d been after Barnes for years, waiting for him to give them anything. He’d always covered his tracks. That’s what she had been there for. The agent had given her an unnerving smile, name tag read as A. Pierce. Some big wig from DC, he had all but bragged. Sure, whatever. To her, he was some suit with a chip on his shoulder who was happy to stick it to another lawless mongrel.</p><p>Hours later, she had been set free, rubbing the sting out of her wrists from the heavy metal cuffs. If there was any guilt for what she’d done, it was washed down with the Sprite she ordered from the Burger King she stopped at on her way home that she’d spiked with some vodka from her purse.</p><p>Working for Barnes had made her drinking problem come back with a vengeance. Her liquid courage would always bliss her out to the point where no matter how aggressive his threats were, she couldn’t give a shit when she was buzzing. Just enough to be compliant and not be suspicious. Those eyes of his always made her feel uneasy. Especially when his gaze was like a tractor beam, pulling you in.</p><p>His paranoia had been getting the better of him ever since his buddy Steve had stepped down. Something about the direction of where it was going and Steve wanted out before it was too late. Barnes hadn’t been the same since. They’d started the club together and it had cracked down the middle. Suddenly it was proving your worth to the club.</p><p>To him.</p><p>Quite frankly, her patience had run out.</p><p>Breaking into the various safes was easy, especially since she had the combinations. All small bills, nothing suspicious. She’d kept that from Pierce, a little secret she had wanted to keep for herself. A bonus for all her hard work. Barnes didn’t count the money until the middle of the month. Pierce and his agents would be there within the week.</p><p>Morita’s birthday party was the perfect time. She wasn’t ever invited to their events – not like she wanted to, she’d seen what took place - but she kept the schedule and the guest list. Doing double duty as accountant and secretary had its perks.</p><p>Through the blinds, she’d seen the first black car drive past slowly, her cue to grab her things and go. The lookouts didn’t even notice when she all but ran to her car, ignoring the urge to check the trunk to confirm for the tenth time that the cases of money were still there. It wasn't until she had turned onto the freeway that she realized she had been forgetting to breathe. There wasn't going to be any coming back to the small desk space.</p><p>Wide open spaces were hers now.</p><p>A sign she flew past read Las Vegas – 100 miles.</p><p>She was in the mood to beat the clock.</p><p>💀</p><p>Inhaling deeply, she threw her head back with the adrenaline rush, rubbing the white powder under her nose.</p><p>It was a little something to celebrate. Two empty bottles of champagne and a half a pizza in a box were her companions. Her pupils were blown wide when she finally got up to go to the bathroom, shaking her hair out of the band before it tumbled down her back. Freedom was truly wild, she thought to herself, rubbing the soreness out of her scalp before she flicked off the light.</p><p>The suite was big, much larger than her measly dump of an apartment. She opened the drapes, light from the Strip flooding in. Below her, people looked like ants, milling around and unaware she was watching.</p><p>The TV flickered to a video while she walked past, turning on her heel to look at the footage. Barnes, his dark brown hair around his face, steel blue eyes focused on the camera for a moment.  While it was only milliseconds before he was led away in handcuffs, the stare had still unnerved her. There was a flicker of something that felt like fear that wound its way into her head before she changed the channel. The urge to search to see where he was being kept almost made her look but she talked herself out of it. It was out of her hands.</p><p>Bags of new clothes lined up against the wall. A prelude to her new life.</p><p>She got a burst of energy, tearing off the tags of tops, trying on the jewelry that glittered under the artificial light. It was time to be happy and ignore the apprehension that seemed to grip her suddenly. It was gone in an instant but enough to make her remember the frame of his face in the video.</p><p>It had to be the icy stare, the look of a man who was going to get his revenge. She laid on her belly, a pillow tucked under her chin.</p><p>Getting revenge? Not fucking likely.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The leather cut settled over Bucky’s shoulders and chest, a sense of a return to normal surging through him while he patted his jean pockets for his smokes. His steel blue eyes narrowed at the realization they’d been thrown away or stolen. In this shithole, it was most likely the latter. It was the least of his worries. He had bigger things to deal with. Half the club was behind bars and he'd been less than pleased that it was most likely someone in his circle.</p><p>Somewhere a few feet away a door opened while he laced up his boots, paying no mind to the voices that seemed to amplify in his ears. A chair pulled across from him, the presence of a body  caught his peripheral. He took his time, tying them tightly before he acknowledged their presence. As far as he was concerned, they were on his time.</p><p>An older man in a suit and tie extended his hand when he finally looked up. They shook, the man wincing slightly before he painted on a smile. The man flashed a badge for a moment, long enough for him to read his name. Alexander Pierce, Federal Bureau of Investigations.</p><p>“Mr. Barnes, I’m sure you have questions about your early release.”</p><p>Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Can’t hold me if I haven’t done shit. Seems pretty cut and dry to me. ”</p><p>Pierce nodded, careful with his poker face.</p><p>“Something like that. Your lawyer, Mr. Wilson, pointed out that we had the proper warrants for everyone’s arrest but yours. A few signatures were missing. It appears in our haste for justice, we made a mistake.”</p><p>The two men exchanged a tense glance. It was a bullshit answer but Bucky wasn’t going to argue with the freedom.</p><p>If he was going by Pierce’s dark stare, this freedom wasn’t free. Not yet.</p><p>“Well,” Pierce said, getting up from the table. “If you don’t have any questions then you’re free to go.”</p><p> </p><p>Morita flicked his cigarette to the ground, the tip of his boot grounding it into the dirt. Bucky flipped his wayfarers over his eyes, striding toward Morita. Still a prospect, Morita was rising fast in the ranks. In a month, his year would be up and they’d vote on his membership. Watching his boss with his head down, Morita quickly shuffled the thought away. There was too much to deal with now. It could wait.</p><p>Morita tossed a pack of cigarettes to Bucky with a lighter while they climbed into the truck. Bucky ran a heavily tattooed hand through his long brown hair, sticking a cigarette between his lips.</p><p>“Any word on when the others are getting out?” Morita shifted the truck into drive, peeling out from the jail parking lot.</p><p>Bucky lit his cigarette, taking a long drag before he answered. “No clue. Sam’s working on it.”</p><p>“Figured I'd tell you now but there's a rumor going around they saw your accountant fleeing the scene when the feds came.”</p><p>Bucky said nothing for a long while. He put the accusation together, piece by piece. Not that he hadn’t already figured it out. There were little hints in her behavior. The willingness to handle the safe, anything to do with the club that didn’t involve getting her hands dirty. She was good with the books; he’d given her that much. She most certainly could fit the crime.</p><p>Any expansion, legal or not, was always met with her resistance. He’d grown tired of her asserting her rules into this space he had known longer than she’d been alive. He figured she was long gone, on the run for when the inevitable happened and he got out.</p><p>His phone was dead, currently charging from the port in the truck while he figured out how he wanted to handle her treachery.</p><p> </p><p>The office was how she left it. Clean, binders put away and the mail still on the desk. Bucky made a beeline to the safes, moving the false walls and turning the numbers. Something told him that they were empty. He wanted to be wrong. He swung the door open, seeing nothing but metal casing. He saw red, his fists at his sides. </p><p>“Fucking bitch!”</p><p>Morita ran toward the office, hearing the hard slam of the safe doors and Bucky’s roar of anger. The office had been trashed, Bucky shoving the door open, heading down the steps toward his motorcycle but not before barking out a command.</p><p>“Get the other chapters on the phone. Now. Tell them they’re looking for a red Porsche 911 Carrera S Cabriolet. I don’t care what they fucking do to her but I need her alive and coherent. They find her, it comes straight to me, got it?"</p><p>Morita held his phone to his ear while he watched Bucky adjust his helmet.</p><p>“Got it.”</p><p>Bucky took off, the engine revving before he disappeared down the street. When the line picked up. Morita looked at the office and the empty safes. Anger rose in his face.</p><p>“Karpov. Got a message from Bucky."</p><p> </p><p>It was well into the night when he finally stopped a gas station. His phone was peppered with notifications, bits and pieces of information on her whereabouts coming in throughout his long ride. Her last location was Primm, Nevada, sitting at poker table and blowing over 5K. Money from the club, lost forever by a deceitful little witch. The man behind the counter flashed a yellow toothed smile.</p><p>"Fifty on six." Bucky pointed to a pack of cigarettes. "Those too."</p><p>The cashier handed him his receipt after he paid, his eyes lingering on Bucky's cut.</p><p>"Long way from home."</p><p>"What's it to you?" Bucky slid the cigarettes from the counter and into his palm.</p><p>"You looking for that girl, aren't you? Pretty face, nice rack, got a mouth on her? A few of your friends came asking a few hours ago."</p><p>Bucky leaned over the counter. "What do you know?"</p><p>"She was here a day ago. Said she was heading to Vegas. Looked like she was in a hurry. Something about catching a flight."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A cigarette hung loose between her lips, her hands diving through her purse to find the brand new lighter she just purchased. She hasn’t smoked in years, the concept seemingly almost foreign but her nerves are shot and it helps to keep her hands occupied.</p><p>Her flight was delayed without notice, leaving her stuck one more night in Vegas. The wheels of her suitcase bumped along the cement while she went back to her car, defeated and nervous. The AC blasted through the vents, drying away the perspiration that had covered her brow from the suffocating heat.</p><p>Shaky fingers light the cigarette, the lighter dropping between her legs and down to the floor. Staying another night would be risky. She'd driven past the Vegas chapter of the Commandos, flipping a U-turn when she realized the look outs had seen her. She'd driven for miles, outside the city limits and back to the airport when she was able to shake the paranoia that she was being followed.</p><p>An out of state number lit up on her burner phone. She held in her hand, watching it vibrate until it stopped. Without fail, it rang again and she swiped to accept. Too much of a coincidence not to.</p><p>“You’re a hard woman to track down. Alexander Pierce, by the way. I’m sure you remember me.”</p><p>She swallowed hard, her senses on high alert. This wasn’t a social call.</p><p>“You there?”</p><p>“Yes.” Her voice barely above a whisper, the cigarette almost out.</p><p>“Good. I wanted to inform you that Mr. Barnes was released from our custody about a day ago. I don’t know where he’s headed and I’ve kept it confidential but I’d wager he’s looking for answers.”</p><p>She sputtered, the cigarette dropping from her lips and onto her pants, the ash marking the fabric before she palmed it, the heat scorching her hand.</p><p>“A day ago?”</p><p>“A miss in our paperwork. Shame, really. Wanted to make sure you were on alert. Of course, I’m confident you’re most likely far away. Nowhere near Fresno or Vegas, I hope.”</p><p>She stayed silent, her eyes switching from the rear view mirror and the side mirrors for any sign of someone that could be following her.</p><p>“You stay safe out there.”</p><p>The line disconnected, her hand still gripping the phone.</p><p>Her lips were chewed up from the amount of time her teeth dragged on her tender skin. Her brain won’t stop thinking about the various outcomes. Twenty-four hours to think about how she can be one step ahead before he comes.</p><p>She knows he will. He was even given a heads start to find her. There were so many crumbs she’d dropped. From the gas station conversation, to the valet who parked her car at the hotel. She couldn’t finish the cigarettes, tossing them out on the highway while she sped past a group of bikers. No club, just joy riders but enough to make her nervous.</p><p>Shit, she was tired of being nervous. Going back to the hotel was out of the question. No doubt he’d made a few phone calls. She’d seen how word traveled between the clubs. There was most likely a bounty on her head. Knowing Bucky, he’d want her alive.</p><p>She shifted the car into reverse, the car flying down the highway moments later, eager to put more distance between them.</p><p>💀</p><p>The convenience store she had stepped into was busy, tourists milling around while teenagers filled up their cups at the line of soda fountains, stopping to gawk at the condoms that were near the register. The cold bottles of coffee in her arms kept her alert, her fingers reaching for a bag of chips when a bottle slipped from her arms.</p><p>She braced for the impact of glass but a hand caught it in time. Her gaze traveled to the black shirt and to the cut. Steve’s hair was longer than she had remembered, his bright blue eyes steady on her face while he held the bottle in his hand. </p><p>“I can take it,” she muttered, trying to reach for it.</p><p>He held it close to him, giving her a cold smile.</p><p>“I’ve got it. Don’t you worry.”</p><p>He turned to pluck the bag of chips she had been looking at, the nomad patch in full view.  Steve had no ties to one single club but she knew where his loyalty laid.</p><p>She placed the bottles on the counter, Steve stepping from behind her and placing the bottle and chips in hand.</p><p>“I’ve got it.”</p><p>He was too close. She watched the cashier bag her items in a paper bag while Steve flicked through his money, telling them to keep the change. She grabbed the bag, trying to weave through the small crowd.</p><p>HIs motorcycle was parked right next to her car, giving her no room to access the driver’s seat. She swallowed hard as she felt him behind her. Panic gripped her. He’d come out of nowhere, a revenant ready to exact whatever bidding Bucky had requested.</p><p>“In a hurry?”</p><p>“Yes.” She moved to the passenger seat, where he followed behind her, keeping enough distance to let her open the car door to place the bag in the seat.</p><p>He held the car door as she tried to close it.</p><p>“We both know how this has to go.” There’s a sigh, like he’s doing a chore. “You can come quietly or I’ll have to hunt you down.”</p><p>“I’m not going anywhere. Fuck him and fuck you,” she spat, elbowing him in the stomach with all her might. He doubled over as she ran over to the side, heaving her weight to drop his bike to the ground.</p><p>Righting himself at the sound of his bike, he went around the front of the car as she got inside, locking the doors and peeling out of the gas station. </p><p>“Fuck! Fuck!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, tears dripping down her cheeks as she thumped the steering wheel. </p><p>She narrowly missed hitting two cars as she blew through a red light. She turned onto a small highway, her foot all the way on the accelerator as she wheels whined and spun before the car shot forward.</p><p>The sound of bullets caught her attention before the car drifted. It felt like a dream, slow motion in the movements around her. No control, the wheel spinning out of control before she saw lights and the incoming telephone pole.</p><p>💀</p><p>She woke up with a scream, muffled by something in her mouth. Her entire body hurt, her jeans dried with blood. Her head felt like it was split open, pain seizing her entire body as she struggled to take a breath. Steve took a swig of his beer and knelt at her bedside, squinting at her forehead.</p><p>“Almost split your head open. Patched you up as best as I could. Gonna scar but you’ll live.”</p><p>She shook her head, wincing and crying as pain surged through her with every movement.</p><p>“Morita should be here soon. Better take your meds. You’re in for a world of hurt.”</p><p>Steve rose, heading toward the table. Counters opened and snapped, the sound of pills shaking into his hand before he lifted her up.</p><p>“I’m gonna take off this gag. If you scream, I’ll give you something to scream about. Otherwise, you’re going to take these pills and stay quiet. Got it?”</p><p>He tugged the gag down, gripping her mouth before she could raise a proper breath to scream.</p><p>“It’s a pity I won’t be around to see what he’s going to do to you,” Steve hissed, shoving the pills in her mouth. </p><p>The glass hovered around her lips, the pressure from his hand on her jaw radiating down her chest. She opened wider, the water spilling down in her mouth and over her lips. She coughed, swallowing the pills before the gag was placed back on her once more.</p><p>“Karma’s coming quickly for you,” Steve muttered, looking over at her bruises. “The shit you pulled at the club, fucking a prospect on the cusp of his membership and lying to make sure he didn’t make it in. Taking advantage of Bucky’s willingness to cut you a break and stealing from them. You’ll get what’s coming to you.”</p><p>The scratchy ropes bit into her skin while she thrashed on the bed, trying in vain to get free.</p><p>A knock at the door got Steve’s attention and he left her to open it.</p><p>Morita walked through the door, a black bag in hand while he scowled in her direction. No more fake smiles and teasing about ‘just being a prospect’. There was real fear in her eyes, palatable and heavy in the air. A large jagged cut near her temple traveled up to her head, stitched and padded by Steve’s expert hands. </p><p>Morita placed his bad on the small couch, watching her sob into her gag, her eyes half lidded by what he knew was a mix of medication and exhaustion. Steve looked back at her while he finished his beer.</p><p>“Give her half an hour and she’ll be out.”</p><p>Morita raised an eyebrow. Nomad or not, Steve was still going to be second in rank to him.</p><p>“You aren’t going to stay?”</p><p>Steve shook his head.</p><p>“Did my part.”</p><p>Morita nodded as Steve slipped out the door.</p><p>“Remember me? The fucking prospect? I’m gonna be your babysitter until Bucky gets here. He’s not far. In the meantime, let’s get you out of those bloody clothes. Maybe give him a little preview of what you got hiding under them.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve had come through.</p><p>Pictures of her once prized car crumpled in a heap, the before and after of her injuries – minor to what Bucky thought she deserved – and her bound and gagged, in a matching black bra and panties, tear streaked cheeks. The ride had been long but worth it to make sure he got his revenge.</p><p>As it stood, Pierce wasn’t too far behind, black cars trailing him every few stops. No doubt waiting for him to pull the trigger on his little thief. He’d already made up his mind that killing her wasn’t going to be an option he would consider.</p><p>There were worse things he could do while she was alive.</p><p>He stuffed his phone back inside his pocket, waiting as he heard the rumble of a motorcycle behind him that parked.</p><p>The two friends looked at each other for a long while. Bucky eyed the nomad patch and his frown reappeared.</p><p>“You can always come back,” Bucky said, breaking the silence.</p><p>“It hasn’t been so bad. Freeing, actually,” Steve countered, Bucky’s reflection in his aviators.</p><p>“Thanks for taking care of my little problem.”</p><p>Steve scoffed at his statement. A few more inches to the left and he was sure the car would have rolled over.</p><p>“Never should have hired her in the first place,” Steve reminded him. “Thought she was hot shit. You lost track of what was important.”</p><p>“The fuck I did,” Bucky spat. “I made one mistake. Sue me.”</p><p>“Multiple. You let her get into the business. Half the endeavors we took on fell flat because she said she ran the numbers and they were bullshit. Just say you were sweet on her. Let me hear you say it,” Steve urged.</p><p>Bucky tore off his sunglasses, glaring at Steve before he got off his bike.</p><p>“You wanna go? Let’s go. I never touched her, you prick.”</p><p>Steve followed suit, shoving Bucky angrily.</p><p>“She played you. No matter how much you yelled at her, she was gonna do whatever she wanted and she proved it. Half the club is in jail, including yourself and she stole our money. You really think I want to come back to that? There’s some shit you need to settle and it’s not with me.”</p><p>“Fuck you, Steve,” Bucky spat. “I’m trying.”</p><p>He got back on his bike, shaking his head in anger.</p><p>“Then try harder and maybe the club will go back to how it used to be. I miss it. I won’t lie. But something has to be done. You need to step up, President.”</p><p>Steve sat back on his bike, starting it up before he pulled away, leaving Bucky in his dust.</p><p>💀</p><p>She came to, blinking slowly before she took in the room in the dim light. Morita stacked his equipment on the table, smoking a cigarette while he moved around the room. Her head didn’t feel like it was split down the middle but her body ached. Her fingers felt against the ropes that bound her wrists and she groaned against the gag.</p><p>Everything came crashing back to her in one blink of an eye. The accident, Steve’s grim expression while he dragged her from the wreckage. She remembered the needle piercing her skin as he stitched her up – something he learned when he was in the army and had come in handy while he plied her with medication to keep her unconscious.</p><p>Morita had continued with her medication until she felt numb. Now she felt everything, the aches in her bones and the pain in her legs. She tried to move off the bed but it was impossible. With Morita around, it only meant Bucky would follow.</p><p>She cursed Pierce against her gag, waiting a whole day to let her know that he had been set free. She hadn’t stood a chance to get away from Bucky and her precious car was wrecked. She mourned that most of all.</p><p>The door opened and she heard Bucky’s voice as Morita greeted him.</p><p>Moments later, he pulled her up by her hair, her back arching as she struggled against him.</p><p>“Well, well, well. You sure didn’t get far,” Bucky mocked, letting her head fall back down to the bed. “You’ve got a long night ahead of you.”</p><p>He looked back at Morita, who cleared off a space on the table.</p><p>“Ready,” he said, pulling on his gloves.</p><p>Bucky crossed his arms, her muffled screams of pain music to his ears while the tattoo was etched into her skin. Her red rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks garnered no sympathy from him, his eyes focused on the ink that was being shaded in.</p><p>He leaned over the table, propping his chin on his forearm, his steel blue eyes lingering on her face.</p><p>“Gotta make sure everyone knows who you belong to,” he said with a raised eyebrow and a nod of satisfaction when Morita paused momentarily so he could see the almost finished process. “You got a lot of debt to repay, baby.”</p><p>💀</p><p>The red blinking of the recorder captured her face, gurgling as saliva and cum dripped down her mouth, her throat being used by Bucky, who was only seen from the waist down, her new tattoo branding her as his for the camera to see. Her eyes watered, her throat bruised by how quickly he was thrusting inside her mouth, his fingers gripping her hair until he came once more. She knew better than to refuse, swallowing it with tear burned eyes as she turned away from the camera.</p><p>“No,” Bucky denied, grabbing her face and turning it toward the camera. “Make sure everyone sees this pretty red mouth.”</p><p>By his calculations, she’d burned through ten thousand dollars of the club’s money and she was going to repay however he deemed necessary.</p><p>She fell back against the couch, sucking in air as she coughed, hoping for a break.</p><p>“We aren’t fucking done. Not by a long shot. We got the whole night ahead of us.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stale beer, piss and the smell of old cigarettes permeated the air when she came to. She let out a low moan when she lifted her head, the imprint of the rubber bar mat on her cheek. The place looked like absolute shit, tables overturned and broken glass from a wild night.</p><p>"Morning," a voice called out down the way.</p><p>With bloodshot eyes she turned to see Steve, sipping on a cup of coffee while he sat at the end of the bar. His patch had returned, VP once again. He drank his coffee in silence, her arms wobbly as she tried to get up off of the chair, nearly slipping in the process. There were bits and pieces of the night that she was remembering now.</p><p>The endless serving. Bucky's eyes on her while she went from patron to patron, cleaning up empty bottles and glasses and coming back for refills. Being backed up against the wall by a drunk Morita, being taunted and teased. No one came to help her, not with what they had known she had done. The embarrassment of her tattoo that was visible in her crop top, picked out by Bucky himself. She no longer had a name that night, only known as Bucky's sweet butt. Enough to be manhandled through the night, pushed in every direction he made her go, his watchful eyes observing the hands that groped her breasts and the feel of their mouths on hers, never going any further because she was his. Not an old lady, to be respected - she had known that she was far from ever earning that title.</p><p>Her video played in the background of the bar to raucous laughter and comments on her form while she shielded her eyes from it, continuing to work through the night. Steve finished his coffee, looking up at her with a satisfied smile.</p><p>"Your little mouth served me well last night," he acknowledged, watching her face twist with shock. "You don't remember? I got the pictures to prove it."</p><p>"Fucking liar," she accused, watching his features twist into a menacing smirk.</p><p>He pulled out his phone, swiping through pictures before he got up from the bar stool. In a single motion, his fingers wrapped around her hair and forced her to look at the phone. Pictures of her tattoo, her bent over and taking Steve's cock inside her mouth. A short clip showed her mouth moving up and down his length, amid an appreciative audience.</p><p>"Call it my insurance," Steve muttered. "Made sure I got your little friend on camera as well."</p><p>With horror in her eyes, she watched herself on her knees, hair held tightly by a well dressed man while she sucked noisily, saliva coating her lips and chin. The camera panned up to Alexander Pierce and she felt her stomach drop to her feet.</p><p>"He's been in on it the whole time. Pierce let Bucky go because he knew he'd come after you," Steve informed her, pushing his phone back in his pocket. "Who knew that a little everclear would make you so loose lipped? Good thing I'm smarter than Pierce. Sent him a little teaser. I'm sure his wife and director would love to see him getting blown by the club's sweet butt."</p><p>She let out a whine of despair as he let her go, watching her stumble back against the bar.</p><p>"Get this place cleaned up," he ordered.</p><p>💀</p><p>Bucky woke, a brunette in his bed that had her arm wrapped around him. The thought of the night prior brought a smile to his face. Revenge was made sweeter by watching her drink to excess, willingly going down on whoever was accepting of her mouth. They'd all gotten close to fucking her but they knew that was reserved for him. They all got their vengeance in their own ways.</p><p>Morita had gotten his brand new cut, officially a full fledged member and with it, the bragging rights that he boasted right to her face. Her sins were laid bare by all who sat in and listened, curious looks that shifted into disgust at her treachery, some stories even unknown to Bucky until that night. She'd played him for a fool and he had half a mind to end her with a single bullet but that would never get his money back.</p><p>Instead, he found enjoyment in watching her throat be poked and abused by Steve and then by Pierce himself, who had shown up to officially try to arrest him. That was laughable in itself, watching Pierce be outnumbered. A little alcohol and some rather persuasive threats had him opening his fly, another video to add to the collection if Pierce tried him again. There was a knock at the door and Bucky watched as the door opened slowly, her eyes meeting his before she saw the sleeping woman at his side.</p><p>"I came to..." she swallowed hard at the reminder of her chore. "I came to pick up your laundry."</p><p>Bucky tilted his head toward the bathroom, watching her nod quickly and move through the room and into the bathroom, the curve of her ass visible in her small shorts.</p><p>Perhaps it was time to get out of bed.</p><p>She bent over the floor, tossing the strewn shirts into the hamper and balling a pair of jeans in her hands before she stuffed them into the container. She looked up to see him standing there and she looked at the floor.</p><p>"Get up."</p><p>For once, she thinks she's going to get a reprieve. There's too much to process, the night before and her actions presented like a movie in her mind, only for her to see. She's pushed against the counter, letting out a yelp when his hand connects on her ass. It hurts every single time he does it and she's never prepared.</p><p>"I'm sorry," she apologized, knowing it didn't matter. By this point, there was not much use in apologizing. Thousands of dollars stood before her freedom. She had a glimpse of happiness when she had remembered Pierce's blackmail, only to realize that Bucky had outsmarted him. He was much more intelligent than she had given him credit for.</p><p>The shorts had been pushed down, fallen to her ankles and she raised on her tiptoes as he pushed inside her, her cunt still learning to accommodate him. The stretch of taking him in burned, her head bowed while she gripped the sink, refusing to look in the mirror because deep down, she knew that she liked it. Freedom floated just above her reach, her breasts bouncing with every thrust as his breath dotted against the back of her neck. Another slap on her flesh made her jump and suck in a breath before he did it again.</p><p>Four more times before she let out a sob.</p><p>"Shut up," he hissed against her hair.</p><p>A moan slipped from her lips as he came inside her, his bare chest up against her back as she sobbed in frustration. Never allowed to come, even when this was what she was used for. For weeks on end, close to the edge and then left alone.</p><p>She thought that was the cruelest punishment of all.</p><p>"Get out." His voice was low, his breathing starting to return to normal. "That bar better be spotless before two. You've got patrons to serve."</p><p>She pulled the hamper out of the bedroom, her gaze meeting the brunette who had now woken up and heard the commotion. At the close of the door, the brunette pushed inside the bathroom to find Bucky stripping out of his sweatpants.</p><p>"Who the fuck was that?" she asked, watching his glare from the mirror.</p><p>"Mind your business before you end up like her. Now get the hell out." His back flexed, the tattoos moving with every twitch of his muscle.</p><p>She slammed the door, getting dressed and heading down the hallway, following the sound of the washer humming. When she stopped to look by the open door, Morita was leaning against the machine, a pair of hands moving rapidly up and down his cock, his eyes shut as she looked over to see who it was.</p><p>"Jesus," the brunette murmured, watching her meet her gaze while she continued to work her hand over his cock. "No chance in hell I'd wanna be you."</p><p>Morita came right as the door closed, cum spilling down the front of her shirt. With a shrug, he tucked himself inside his jeans.</p><p>"Might wanna change your shirt before you clean up the bar. It's a fucking mess."</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>